The Joker and the Thief
by Jander Panell
Summary: A fighter pilot and an alien find love in the middle of a war between their two peoples.  Zemyx, AkuDemy, XemZex.  Spiritual successor to "Tainted But Beautiful."
1. There Must Be Some Way Out Of Here

**The Joker and the Thief**

_A fighter pilot and an alien find love in the midst of a war between their two peoples. Zemyx, AkuDemy, XemZex. Spiritual successor to "Tainted But Beautiful."_

Rating: M

Warnings: AU (sci fi space opera setting), violence, yaoi, language, explicit scenes, noncon, light S&M, discipline, semi-mpreg (it makes sense in story), seme!Demyx and uke!Zexion, badly written space battles, possibly inaccurate military procedures, character death, melodrama

I don't know if any of you remember, but in the final chapter of _Tainted But Beautiful, _I wrote that I might one day write a story involving a soldier Demyx falling in love with an alien Zexion. Well, lo and behold, here is that story. It's not necessary to read _Tainted _before reading this one, because the story isn't "_Tainted _in Space!" nor _Tainted _in the future; it's an alternative universe tale that shares some similar themes to _Tainted. _And will undoubtedly be better written. So if you enjoyed _Tainted, _even if you don't usually like sci fi, please give _Joker and Thief _a look.

I guess I was inspired to write this because I was in a sci fi mood. I blame that on watching _Star Trek: First Contact _(awesome movie, btw!) and attending a Muse concert. Yes, Muse, live. They are fucking epic, one of the few bands that's actually better live. Anyway, listening to Muse always gets me into a sci fi mood, although song-wise this story takes more inspiration from "All Along The Watchtower."

* * *

Log I: There Must Be Some Way Out Of Here

Demyx hated space.

He hated seeing all the little pinprick-stars swallowed up in that black expanse. Black, black, and black, everywhere he looked. No matter what level of Starbase 13 he stood on, whenever he looked out the viewports he saw the same identical vista of white sprinkles on an endless black cake. He could tilt his head or look at it sideways, but all that changed was that a few of the stars - _maybe _- shifted position. He could float upside-down in the antigrav viewchamber, watching the panoramic space turn and turn around him, but that just made him nauseous.

More than anything, Demyx ached for land. He remembered his childhood home on the beautiful watery planet of Aersu. Instead of endless blackness, there was an endless beach. Miles upon miles of soft white sand, and waves that whispered as they rose, then retreated. He missed that sound the most. The waves' soft, lulling voices His mother had never had to sing him lullabies because the surf comforted him so much better. Sometimes he imagined it speaking. _Hush...I'm here. Sleep...Demyx. _Sometimes it said his name, and he liked that the most.

Aboard the starbase, the only sound during the night was the perpetual low growl of the life support systems, and the occasional tramp of boots upon metal.

Nobody else would understand, least of all Axel. Axel had, like most of the residents of Starbase 13, been born spaceside. He remembered nothing but the inky void outside the viewports and the cold embrace of metal. Demyx had never told Axel about Aersu because he was sure Axel would just laugh in his face. Demyx could just imagine him: _"Aww, homesick, are you, Dems? Don't cry!"_

It wasn't that he was homesick, really...okay, maybe he was. But who wouldn't get homesick after living in a metal trap for three years?

And before Starbase 13 had been the Academy. At least the Academy had been an orbiting space station, so he could watch the slowly turning curve of the planet from the viewports. Not that there'd been much to see; Nebulon-XV was just an orange gas giant. Demyx had gazed upon it so often he'd memorized the pattern of stripes covering its surface.

He longed to see land, but more than that, he longed to see the cool, gentle blue of sea.

Demyx sighed and leaned his forehead against the wall. What the hell was he thinking about. When his thoughts turned this direction, his head started hurting and his heart ached like an unhealed bruise. He was going to homesick himself to death, he felt. Why couldn't he just put up and shut up and follow his orders and wait for this tour of duty to end?

_Not that you even know when it's going to end, _he thought grimly.

Outside this viewport, he could see something besides dull space, though. One of the station's many arms was visible, slashing across the space vista like a huge, blunt knife. The arms connected the various modules of the station; this one led to Quarters Module D. Demyx pressed his nose to the cold viewport and stared at it just for something to stare at. A couple of fixer robots crawled across the arm's flat metal surface, spraying it with bursts of colorless steam. Reinforcing the hull to keep the vacuum out.

Maybe he should do something more interesting than this. Find somebody else. Axel and Xigbar, maybe. Except they were off on a mission, those lucky bastards who were part of Radiant Squadron. Radiant was made up of the Fleet's best and brightest so no wonder they got to go on so many missions. Demyx's own squadron, Hollow, did little besides clean up Radiant's occasional messes. So far, in three years of serving the Fleet, Demyx had taken part in a real battle only twice, and both those times he'd survived by the skin of his teeth.

Oh well, if he was part of Radiant, he'd die quickly anyway. He wasn't brave like them; he couldn't fight the vamps. Demyx remembered that today Radiant's mission was to scout out a drifting, abandoned vamp scouter. _"Probably a trap," _Axel had said, "_but who cares?" _Spoken like a true Fleet flyboy, Demyx thought sourly. Don't give a shit about danger. Look forward to it, in fact. Well, whatever, Demyx sent a little prayer in Radiant's direction anyway. He knew Axel and Xigbar and the rest didn't need it, but all the same, Demyx couldn't help but worry whenever they left for too long. It had already been almost half a day after they'd first departed. He could only hope that they'd survived the vamp trap.

_Not a very good flyboy, are you? _snickered a voice in the back of Demyx's mind, which sounded a little too much like Axel.

"Oh, shut up," Demyx told it aloud. "Some flyboy _I _am, anyway. Last in his class in Flight School, remember?"

Great, now he was talking to himself. He was glad that the corridor was deserted; he couldn't handle anyone walking in on him while he was feeling sorry for himself. Once again he pressed his forehead against the viewport -

Only to jerk back up when he caught a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye. Barely daring to breathe, Demyx fixed his gaze beyond the arm, into the uniform blackness of space. It was hard to judge distances, but he was sure he saw a group of little, gleaming objects growing steadily bigger. Little gleaming objects in a familiar V-shaped formation.

_It's them! Radiant!_

Demyx exhaled, releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Had he really been that worried? Yeah right, he'd spent most of his time feeling sorry for himself. He could never worry too much for Axel, not just because Axel didn't like it but because the man was fucking invincible. He'd survived being blasted clean out of his own fighter, for God's sake. Surely he could handle whatever the vamps threw at him.

The formation came closer, so Demyx could discern their individual shapes. Some were sharp-nosed and sleek-winged: Valkyrie fighters. Others were boxier, larger: Siren scouters. Most were scuffed, and the golden stripes proclaiming them members of Radiant were faded, but that was just regular battle damage. They didn't display any major, new damage. Leading the formation was Axel's particularly beaten Valkyrie, so close that Demyx could make out the callsign painted on its side in shining red letters: _Flurry. _

Well, Axel was back, so Demyx supposed he'd go welcome him. Like a wife reuniting with her husband after he'd been away at war, Demyx thought sourly. He tried to banish such thoughts from his mind, but they dogged him even as he pounded down the corridors, heading towards the hangar bay.

The hangar bay had been repressurized, so it was safe to enter without a space suit, but it didn't possess gravity, so Demyx found himself floating. He clung to the railing surrounding the balcony of the hangar's second level to keep himself from drifting into nowhere as he watched the ground level.

Most of the Radiant Squadron members had already disembarked their fighters and scouters, and now technicians were busy securing the ships to the hangar bay floor with special magnetized strips. The squadron members had gathered in tightly huddled mass around Axel's Valkyrie; Demyx could see little except their heads and their shining black flightsuits. They spoke softly, so he couldn't hear them.

Something seemed a little odd about this. Radiant usually engaged in a little powwow (what Axel called them) after every mission, but it didn't last long; usually just long enough for them to exchange fist bumps and share a laugh. Already, Radiant had been huddled for over a minute. Nor was it common for the commander of the starbase himself, Colonel Ansem, to join them. In his duty dress uniform, he looked odd amidst all the flightsuits. Worry began to churn in Demyx's stomach, especially since he couldn't see Axel's crown of red spikes. Shit, what if something had happened to him? Unconsciously, Demyx gripped the railing tighter and leaned forward, desperate for a glimpse of Axel.

As he leaned forward, he caught a drift of the others' voices - in particularly, Colonel Ansem's rich Capital accent.

" - oh _my, _it truly is so - I must commend you, Lieutenant - '

"A ha ha ha, it's really nothing, sir - "

Demyx's heart lodged into his throat. That snarky, slightly nasal voice - it could be no one but Axel. _So he's okay..._

"I say we send it to Capital, dude!" This was Xigbar's loud drawl. "Could make a ton of cred off this, I swear - "

"You kiddin'?" Axel again. "No way we're selling it, right, Colonel?"

"Of course not." Ansem's firm voice invited no argument. "It is of too much strategic value for us to relinquish it."

By this point, Demyx was starting to wonder what this 'it' was. Had Radiant found some treasure during their mission? Or maybe an important piece of vamp technology? Demyx itched to know, but he couldn't see through the mob of Radiants pressed around Axel in the center.

Demyx tried leaning forward, but his feet left the floor. Gasping, he doubled his grip on the railing and flailed, trying to plant his feet on the solid metal again. More people, technicians and white-uniformed flight controllers included, drifted towards the crowd; when they squeezed into open spaces, they reacted with shocked gasps and hands over mouths. Their reactions annoyed Demyx more. Just what were they gawking at? He wanted to see!

"Okay, okay, back away, you've all got a good look," This was Axel. "C'mon, clear some room for a guy to move, got it memorized?"

The people did move, but more slowly than Demyx would have liked. None seemed able to tear their eyes from Axel, or rather, this mysterious 'it' he had. Still, they did thin out, until Axel's lanky form, bent at the waist, became visible. Demyx's eyes moved from Axel's distinctive hair to...

To the person on the floor.

Someone lay curled up at Axel's feet. From this distance, Demyx couldn't tell if it was male or female, but he could make out its slender build, the deathly pallor of its skin, the strange loose gray garments it wore, and black liquid, some half-dried and crusting up, everywhere. In its hair and torn clothes and skin...

Demyx's heart stopped. That liquid was...blood, wasn't it? But why was it black? Why was this person so pale? Like alabaster...or a corpse. And why were their hands cuffed? Were they a prisoner? But an ordinary prisoner shouldn't amaze everyone so much...

"Lieutenant, Captain," Colonel Ansem was saying to Axel and Xigbar, "gather a team of four - arm yourselves with blast rifles - and escort our..._guest_...to the brig. Maximum security chamber, if you please."

"Geez, you seem pretty damn paranoid," Axel said, rubbing his head. "C'mon, it's passed out, what harm can it do?"

"Hey, even when it was half-dead, it did a good number on us, y'know! Better safe than sorry, I always say!" Xigbar shouted. Demyx noticed that his midsection had been crudely bandaged; blood had already soaked through the bandages. At the same time, he realized that a ragged gash ran down Axel's arm; Axel, true to form, didn't seem to register it.

Sick panic spiked inside Demyx. Just what had happened?

"Captain Xigbar is right," Colonel Ansem said. "We must take every available precaution so long as the enemy is aboard this base."

_What? The enemy? Does he mean...is that..._

Demyx focused harder on the prisoner, whom Axel and a small contingent of Radiants had surrounded and aimed blasters upon. The pale skin...the black blood...the strange garments... Could it be that the prisoner was a vamp?

Demyx had never seen a vamp before. Of course, he knew that the Alliance was at war with the mysterious aliens, but all he'd seen of them were their massive motherships and bizarrely designed fighters. Only ground fighters on the colony worlds ever got to see vamps. Even there, the vamps always hid inside armor suits that self-destructed when the soldier died. Nobody had ever captured a vamp alive.

Until now. Demyx could hardly breathe through his awe - and jealousy - of Axel.

Axel and his team had dragged the unconscious vamp to a standing position, though they held it at arms' length with looks of disgust on their faces. As Axel and Xigbar dragged it, three men behind them prodded it with their blast rifles - which were set to kill. Demyx watched them float out of the hangar, then released the railing and floated off after them.

* * *

"I still can't believe it," Demyx breathed, leaning towards the force shield. "A real live vamp..."

"Haha, aren't I awesome?" Axel smirked and leaned against the wall, ever the picture of infuriating confidence. "We had no idea we'd come across anyone alive - ship seemed to be one of those vamp scouters, yeah? Except it was totally wrecked, couldn't extract any useful tech from it, what a shame. But we did find the vamp!Hiding inside the vents - leapt out all snarling and tried attacking us with one of them knives. Took me and Xigbar to bring it down, but it was already pretty much half-dead anyway. Gonna have to get the damn thing back for my arm, though, got it memorized?"

Demyx didn't, because he wasn't listening to Axel. He only had eyes on the vamp. Starbase 13's brig wasn't very large, only big enough to hold a row of three cells. The other two were empty, but the one in the center was occupied by the vamp. It lay atop the bench jutting from the metal wall, still out cold. Water dripped with painful regularity from its hair and clothes onto the grooved floor; rather than waste time cleaning and disinfecting its injuries, Axel and Xigbar had simply hosed it down until they'd washed all the blood off. Now that it was clean, Demyx could see that its skin really was pale - the same hue as arctic ice, with a blue tinge as well - and its hair was an astonishing shade of slate blue. It reminded Demyx of the ocean on a stormy day, which made him horribly homesick again.

He was astonished by how human the vamp looked. It had a head and hair and a torso and two arms and two legs. In the old days, people either believed aliens would be little gray men with big heads and eyes, or bizarre nonsensical blobs, but this youth, aside from its skin and hair color, looked normal enough. And okay, maybe its fingers were unnaturally long and tipped with claws, and fangs protruded from its shut mouth, and angular purple markings emanated from the corners of its eyes to its temples, and its shirt, ripped open in the back, revealed two bluish, veiny stubs over its shoulder blades. Okay, maybe not so normal.

Now that all that black blood had been washed away, its injuries stood in clear relief against its skin. Several great ragged gashes on its back, grayish bruises on its face, an ankle bent at an awkward angle. Demyx felt a little sick ,though he reminded himself that this wasn't an injured human, just a vamp.

"Pretty amazing," Demyx said. "It looks so human, doesn't it?"

"Don't forget it'll suck your blood out if you give it any openings," Axel said in a deadpan.

"I wonder if it's a boy or a girl?" Demyx continued, barely hearing Axel's words. "How can you tell?"

"Why don'cha ask the doc those questions, I sure as hell don't know," Axel said. "After the doc's finished fixin' Xigbar, of course."

Demyx cast a glance back at Axel - or rather, at Axel's injured arm, which he'd bandaged with a length of gauze. "What about you?"

"Nahh, this is nothing." Axel waved the injured arm as if to demonstrate. "Still can fly with this, yeah? So it's fine, got it memorized?"

Demyx sighed and wondered if he would ever be as singlemindedly devoted to flying as Axel was. Mayeb that was why Axel was in Radiant while Demyx was just a shitty Hollow.

"Whoa, look out, you two!" shouted one the brig guards, hefting his blast rifle. The other guard followed suit. Demyx's hand, too, automatically flew for the blaster tucked into his belt.

The vamp was stirring.

It groaned a little, a tiny sound that Demyx couldn't hear through the force shield's crackling. Its eyelids begin to flutter, slightly at first, but it managed to crack them open. Demyx froze when he saw the vamp's eyes. Even though they were bleary and unfocused, they compelled him in a powerful way. Maybe it was their color: a deep, midnight blue, almost as dark as the void of space and just as unforgiving...just as inhuman.

Demyx's arm ached; he didn't know why until he realized he'd drawn his blaster and had aimed it at the vamp. The four human soldiers stood in a row, all pointing weapons as the vamp moved its head, darting its eyes back and forth, from the ceiling to the floor to the bench, to the cuffs around its wrists -

And then to the soldiers.

Its eyes locked with Demyx's and the breath vanished from Demyx's lungs. He couldn't look away - not from that entrancing darkness - and to think he'd always thought of space as shallow, flat, boring...

The vamp held Demyx's gaze for less than a second. Its expression grew wild, and then it leapt forward and hurled itself directly into the force shield.

Axel yelled an expletive and the guards cried out as electricity, blue and crackling, blazed down the vamp's body. With a shout it flew backwards, slamming into the floor with an impact that made all four soldiers wince. For a moment Demyx feared that the vamp had died, but then it sat up in a too-fluid motion, glaring daggers at the humans.

"Morning," Axel said, sardonic as ever.

The vamp snarled something in its own language. Its voice was low, chilling - a male voice, Demyx thought.

"Same here," Axel snickered.

The vamp staggered to his feet - he had to lean against the wall for support, since his hands were cuffed - and leveled his glare upon Axel. He said something else in his language, more sibilant. Axel just laughed.

"Whatever you say, pal."

Demyx wondered about the wisdom of goading a dangerous alien, but he reminded himself that the alien, in his current injured state, wasn't much of a danger.

The vamp swallowed hard, but it was less a fearful swallow than a steeling-himself-to-face-danger swallow. When he spoke next, his voice was harsh and rasping, and he was unmistakably speaking Alliance Standard.

"Humans."

Axel raised an eyebrow but otherwise took things in stride. "Yeah, that's right, that's what we are. Want a gold star?"

"Re...release me." The vamp narrowed his eyes.

"Nahh, don't really feel like it." Axel spun his blaster before pointing it at the vamp's face again. "You're our prisoner, you get?"

'I...will be nobody's prisoner." The vamp's speech was heavily accented, with emphasizes on odd syllables. "I will not...betray my kind."

"Hahahaha, like you've got a choice - oh, fuck! Stop that!"

With a look of determination on his face, the vamp brought his claws to his throat. Was it Demyx's imagination, or had they lengthened an inch? They now looked like needles, sharp and deadly enough to plunge into the trembling column of his throat - and spill his lifeblood.

The guards and Axel lifted their guns again, but Demyx thought it was pointless - what, were they going to kill the vamp before he killed himself? Before he could think, he dashed up to the force shield, though he stopped before he could actually touch it.

"Hey, wait, wait," he yelled, waving his arms like an idiot. "Wait, don't do it!"

"I will protect my people." The vamp gazed coolly at Demyx. He pressed one needle-like claw to the side of his neck and sank it in millimeter by deadly millimeter. "I will not have you humans make a game of me."

"Nobody's trying to do anything like that! Hey, don't kill yourself, okay?" Demyx shouted. He heard Axel shouting something else behind him, but paid him little attention. "Come on, if you die now you'll never see your home again!"

The vamp laughed, a soft sound that brushed over Demyx like an icy breeze. "You are...ignorant, human."

"Shield down, weapons on stun, hands on triggers, and out of the fucking way, Demyx," Axel shouted in one breath. "In three - two - one! Mark!"

He snapped his fingers and one of the guards dashed forward and slammed his palm against the force shield control pad - just as Axel and the other guard fired. Demyx yelled and ducked, and the vamp swung his hands away from his neck and surged forward as if to attack -

Only for two yellow bolts to strike him, one on the chest, the other on the side. He staggered back, his mouth open in soundless surprise, his eyes huge and indignant. Seconds later he had collapsed into a heap on the floor.

"Whew." Axel wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Fuck, I thought we almost had a situation there...well, we gotta be careful. Watch out for suicide attempts, got it memorized?"

_I guess it makes sense...we all know vamps don't like to be captured, _Demyx thought. He was still shaken by the incident. No, didn't find almost being stunned that bothersome, those kinds of near misses happened unfortunately often to him. For whatever reason, he though the vamp's attempted suicide was more disturbing.

Because it showed just how far vamps could go? Or because he didn't want the vamp to die?

What kind of nonsense was that? Of course he didn't want the vamp to die; it could be a source of tremendous information. Demyx shook his head to clear it, wondering if he'd somehow been affected by the stunner bolts too. Now, that was nonsense...

"And hey, next time dodge quicker, mmkay Dems?" Axel was saying.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I"m sorry," Demyx said.

"Pretty dumb of you, just running up like that and trying to stop the vamp. You should've just stepped back and let me handle it, you always know I have a plan, hmm?" Axel grinned, teeth showing. Demyx tried to return the smile, but his face muscles hurt.

He knew that Axel wasn't deliberately trying to be mean; he was just a thoughtless person. But the worst thing was that Axel was right. He could handle everything, that man, because he was...Axel. The prodigy, the genius, one of the best pilots Starbase 13 had known. Demyx was already lucky that a guy like Axel considered him - a mere Hollow - a worthy friend.

That didn't stop Demyx's stomach from churning in disquiet as he followed Axel out of the brig (after Axel had bid goodbye to the guards and the guards turned on the force shield again). It always turned out this way. Him and his stupid, nonsensical impulses. They always lost to the force of Axel's cunning and charisma.

* * *

Yay for Firefox's spell check feature. Hopefully that means there will be less stupid typos riddling this story than there were in _Tainted. _If you do notice some mistakes, please point them out; I'll try to edit them.

Enjoy a preview of the next chapter, titled "Said The Joker To The Thief" (candy corn to whoever can figure out the chapter titling theme):

_"So," Demyx said, clapping his hands together. "I figure we should start with names, hmm? Whadda ya think? I mean, it'll get tiresome to call you 'vamp' all the time, yeah?"_

_The vamp had adopted his usual position tucked in the corner of the bench. He was really quite small, Demyx thought. Well, small for a boy, but tall for a girl. It was still a little hard to tell what sex he was supposed to be; his features were delicate and perfectly androgynous, and his body wasn't visible through the baggy surplus jumpsuit he'd been dressed in. Looking at him, he could really go either way. If it wasn't for his voice, in fact, Demyx might be more inclined to think him a girl._

_"Vamp. That is your name for us."_

One last note: Most of the time, I find Ansem damn near impossible to write. Not so here. Somehow, all of his lines ended up flowing naturally and sounded good. Only when I was rereading did I realize that was because I was imagining Jean-Luc Picard while writing him. So yeah, in this story, Ansem is Captain Picard with hair.

Hope you enjoyed it, and please do **review**. I'll try to update soon, no promises.


	2. Said the Joker to the Thief

**The Joker and the Thief**

_A fighter pilot and an alien find love in the middle of a war between their two peoples. Zemyx, AkuDemy, XemZex. Spiritual successor to "Tainted But Beautiful."_

Rating: M

Warnings: AU (sci fi space opera setting), violence, yaoi, language, explicit scenes, noncon, light S&M, discipline, semi-mpreg (it makes sense in story), seme!Demyx and uke!Zexion, badly written space battles, possibly inaccurate military procedures, character death, melodrama

Yay, thanks for all the reviews! Please keep them coming; seriously, the knowledge that people are following, and enjoying, a story always encourages me to update faster (even though I have a bazillion papers to write...).

Man, I'm surprised by how many of you dislike sci fi. It's easily my favorite genre. Yeah, the hard stuff scares me, but so does high fantasy (I could never make it through LOTR, whereas Isaac Asimov is my favorite author), and anyway I prefer character-centered, dramatic sci fi. Like Star Trek, or better yet, Battlestar Galactica. You all should watch BSG. It was (ignoring the dreck masquerading as a series finale) the absolute best show on television, I'm not even exaggerating. Even more mindscrewy than Kingdom Hearts, and that's an accomplishment. Plus it has awesome music, too.

Oh, Final Fantasy characters show up here, so insert my usual disclaimer about not being able to write them properly. And not caring.

* * *

Log II: Said the Joker to the Thief

"It's been four days," security chief Major Squall Leonhart said pointedly.

"Yer point?" Captain Xigbar grumbled.

"The prisoner hasn't spoken." Leonhart pretended to ignore Xigbar, instead addressing Colonel Ansem sitting at the head of the meeting room table. "Not a single word. We come in and bring him food and ask him questions. He won't speak, and he also won't touch his food."

"For four days?" Ansem said, blinking in alarm. "That cannot possibly be right. How is he still alive?"

"I don't know," said the starbase doctor, Major Aerith Gainsborough. "It must have something to do with vamp physiology. I've been collecting samples from him - when he's stunned - but so far the lab's results are all inconclusive."

"Marvelous." Ansem steepled his fingers. "It seems that our prisoner is quite unwilling to talk."

"This can't continue," Leonhart said. "The whole point of capturing one of them alive was to obtain more information."

"Yes, I am fully aware of that," Ansem said. "My supervisors have been getting more than a little impatient. Understandably, they want results. Some have begun making noises about sending one of their own to interrogate the prisoner."

"Shit on that!" yelled Xigbar, banging his fists on the table; the other, much less crude, officers winced. "Our business is nobody else's business, ya got that?"

"You're preaching to the choir," Leonhart said dryly.

"I have been able to hold them off for now," Ansem continued, "but I can only guarantee perhaps two weeks at most. And believe me, I can understand the superiors' feelings. We are sitting atop a golden opportunity, ladies and gentlemen. To not seize it would be wrong."

"Not as easy as that, old man," grumbled Xigbar.

"The prisoner is determined not to talk," Leonhart said. "Like all vamps. Over the past four days, he's made seven attempts on his life. Each time we stopped him by stunning him, but..."

"But," Gainsborough said, "I don't think we can continue doing it. Who knows how our stunners are affecting him? If anything, it seems to be making him more obstinate."

Ansem had to fight the urge to bury his face in his hands. He was the commanding officer of the starbase...he had to set an example for his people. He believed that inspiring his people was one of the chief duties of a commander. "How often are you interrogating him?" he asked.

Leonhart said, "We have a different man come in twice a day. The sessions are all recorded, of course."

"And who is allowed access to him?" Ansem said. "Hopefully not the entire starbase..."

"Of course not. Only security teams - hand-picked by me - are allowed around-the-clock access to the prisoner. Other soldiers are only allowed in at designated hours, and never more than four a day."

"Do you think even that might be unduly stressing the prisoner?" Ansem said.

"Who gives a shit!" said Xigbar. "If ya ask me, the prisoner needs _more _stressin'!"

"Oh, don't cry about it," Dr. Gainsborough said. "No point in getting revenge, you're already completely healed."

"As if! A man's still got to pay back blood with blood, whether it's healed doesn't mean a thing!" Xigbar declared, pumping a fist. Dr. Gainsborough sighed and pressed her palm into her forehead.

"And of course, I don't doubt that you're keeping records of who visits him," Ansem said, addressing Leonhart.

Leonhart nodded. "Most just visit once - I guess that's enough to satisfy their curiosity. Except..."

"Except?" Ansem leaned forward.

"Well, sir..." Leon furrowed his brow slightly. "This one Second Lieutenant Demyx, a Valkyrie pilot in Hollow Squadron. He's been visiting the prisoner every day."

* * *

The prisoner, as always, ignored Demyx. He curled up on the edge of the bench, resting his disinterested gaze upon the walls while he wrapped his arms around his knees. He looked rather stoned, Demyx had to admit, though that was probably because he hadn't eaten for four days. His latest tray sat on the far side of the cell, as close to the force shield as possible, its contents untouched.

"Hey, hey, what'd I tell you last time?" Demyx said, putting his hands on his hips. "I told you to eat, okay? You gotta eat a lot, stay healthy and strong. That kind of thing."

He felt like an idiot trying to converse with a wall. During his previous four visits, he'd done nothing but talk _to _the prisoner since the prisoner wasn't talking back. He'd probably babbled more than he should have, but dammit, hearing his own voice was better than drowning in awkward silence.

"What's wrong with the food? Look, we even included some blood. Yeah. From our precious supply, so you should be grateful for that."

For the first time, the vamp reacted to Demyx's words. He turned away and snorted a little. Demyx frowned and blinked.

"Hey, what's so funny? Hey hey, don't turn into a stiff again!"

Much to his surprise, the vamp spoke. His voice was hoarse, weak, completely unlike the low snarl it had been four days ago. "Why...do you keep coming?"

"Hmm?" Demyx blinked some more. He hadn't expected the vamp to actually start speaking to him, and he found himself at a disconcerting loss for words. "Well, why not? Haven't really...got much else to do, you know."

"You are a soldier. You should always have something to do."

"Well, that's just not true!" Demyx said, encouraged that he was finally having a conversation with the vamp. "You see, I work alpha shift. Now it's beta shift, so I got nothing to do! Axel and his buddies are playing games in the arcade, but I already lost - I always lose in the first round, pity - so I guess I'll just, y'know, hang out with you."

Put that way, it really did sound stupid. He couldn't place his reasons for visiting the vamp into words, though. He just...after he inevitably lost in the fighter pilots' daily arcade tournament, his feet carried him down corridors and past turns until he found himself in the brig, standing in front of the prisoner's cell. Why? Was it because he liked the vamp's eyes - those eyes that never looked at him anyway? Or did he just find the vamp's presence intriguing?

Maybe he found it easier to talk to this vamp because he hadn't lost any family in the war. So his intrigue could be purely academic, nothing personal. But a purely academic interest wouldn't keep bringing him to the same place day after day, especially when he'd gotten no results...

Maybe it was because he wanted something to distract him from his shittiness as a fighter pilot, arcade player, drinker, and card sharp - all things that Axel valued.

Demyx sat down cross-legged. The grooved metal floor wasn't comfortable - it dug lines into his buttocks that he could see when he looked in the mirror before showering - but he saw no point in standing if he was going to stay here a while. The guards prowling the perimeter of the brig threw him bored glances when he moved, but then resumed their steady pacing.

"I'm glad you're talking," he said. "So why not eat that food? Or drink that blood?"

The vamp looked away; his curtain of slate hair covered one of his eyes, hiding it from Demyx's scrutiny. "You..believe that we...what is it...consume your blood? For...nourishment?"

"Huh? Why wouldn't you?" Demyx demanded. He knew what vamp kills looked like - he'd seen them himself. Dessicated, dry husks that dissolved into dust when one touched them. Autopsies confirmed that the deceased had been drained of all their blood. Hence the name 'vamps.'

"Stupid." The vamp shook his head. "It is not...we would not eat the enemy, that would be...desecration. Yes?"

"Sucking away all their blood, you don't call that desecration?" Demyx said, annoyed.

"It is not." The vamp glanced down at his cuffed hands. "How else would we have...what do you call it...evidence? No, proof. Proof of our kills. To take another's life force is to...master them? No, that is not what I mean."

He mumbled a long string of something in his own language; the hairs on the back of Demyx's neck rose. He didn't know what he was afraid of, but he had the unpleasant feeling that the vamp was plotting subterfuge and he had no way of knowing it. Or, more rationally, he felt that the alien was insulting him.

"Your language is...limited. I cannot express what I truly mean. There are no...layers...as there are for us. It is a sign of your stupidity."

"Hey, watch it, buddy!" Now _that _was an insult. "You're only having trouble 'cause you don't know the language, that's all."

The vamp smirked. "That one, he always told me I spoke it well..."

"Who?" Demyx leaned forward, interested.

"Nothing. Leave me."

Demyx sighed. "Hey, is that why you're not talking more?"

"Is what."

"You're not confident enough about your command of the language. Maybe you're afraid you'll let something slip? Or we won't understand just how much you hate us all, whatever. So that's why you don't speak."

"_Zakto. _Nonsense."

"You know..." Demyx frowned, turning the idea over and over again in his head. No, it was stupid; Axel would definitely not like it. But what the hell, he didn't need Axel's approval! Anyway, _he _wanted to, wasn't that enough? Even though he still didn't understand why. Did he have to? Sometimes people could do things without knowing why, so long as they felt right.

The vamp had fallen silent again, and was staring at the wall with an expression of half-interest. He clearly didn't think that Demyx had anything more to say.

"You know," Demyx said again, louder. The vamp didn't move, but Demyx had the feeling that he was listening. Encouraged, he continued. "I could teach you, if you want. I mean, you already can speak it okay, but I could teach you more. Difficult words and the like, so you can express yourself better. How's that sound?"

The vamp closed his eyes. "Idiotic."

"Aww, hey, come on," Demyx said, spreading his hands.

"That word." The vamp cracked open one eye - once again, for an exhilarating second, Demyx was lost in its endless depths. "You use it often. Its meaning."

Demyx grinned and folded his arms, even puffed his chest out a little bit. Not too far, he didn't want to act like Axel. "Guess you'll have to wait until the first lesson to find out, huh?"

If the vamp was irritated, he didn't let it on. His gaze was as stoic as ever. "I did not give my agreement."

"Too bad," Demyx said with a laugh, skipping backwards. He didn't know why he felt so giddy - maybe because this was something that he actually could do? Although other people could probably do it better. Not Axel, though, with that atrocious Border accent of his. "I've already decided!"

"Lieutenant," one of the guards said, suddenly standing stiffly at attention, "Major Leonhart is arriving. Wrap it up and get out of here."

"Oh..." Demyx said. He glanced from the guard to the vamp, who hadn't moved. Of course, he shouldn't have forgotten that he wasn't the only one allowed access to the vamp. Hell, he was probably one of the least important. Major Leonhart and his men had a task to accomplish, while Demyx just wanted to try out some silly game.

"Okay, I guess I'll be going," he said to the vamp, who once again was studiously ignoring him. "See you tomorrow."

The door hissed open and Demyx stepped out - only to almost bump into Major Leonhart. With a shout he reeled backwards.

"S-sorry, sir! Sorry!" He shot to attention and saluted. Leonhart returned the salute, looking - damn him! - a little amused.

"Guess I'll be going, sir," Demyx babbled, ducking past Leonhart. He didn't know why, but the security chief always made him nervous. Maybe it was that scar.

"Wait," Leonhart said. Demyx froze in his tracks.

_Oh, shit! Did I do something wrong? If he's talking about the stunt the squadron pulled last week, well, that was frickin' last week! And I barely had anything to do with it..._

"Lieutenant Demyx, right?" Leonhart said. He hadn't yet faced Demyx, not that that was much of a consolation. "You've been making pretty good progress with the prisoner."

"What?" Demyx squeaked. Was he imagining things, or had Major Leonhart...praised him? That couldn't be right. "N-no, I mean - "

"Don't sell yourself short. You got him to talk, more than what anyone else has done. And you've come up with a brilliant idea to continue getting him to talk."

"Huh?" Demyx had no idea what Leonhart was talking about, until he remembered his idiotic language lessons idea. "Well, that..."

"He seems to like you. Continue to get on his good side, and who knows? You might get somewhere."

"Ahh...I think...you're giving me too much credit, sir," Demyx said, blushing furiously and staring at his shoes. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had paid him a compliment...let alone told him he was going to go somewhere. Maybe his mother when he had been twelve. Much to his shame, he had no idea how to react.

"No, lull him into a false sense of security, and only then will the prisoner trust you enough to talk. Unfortunately, he'll sense shenanigans from us if we do that - we've firmly established ourselves as the bad cops - but you, you don't have a negative history with him. Play the good cop, Lieutenant."

"I don't think I can..."

"Of course you can," Leonhart said lazily; he was already beginning to step inside the brig. "I already get the feeling you're smarter than the typical flyboy. And besides - this isn't a request. It's an order. From the Colonel himself."

"_Whaaat?" _Demyx yelled. He whirled around, but Leonhart had already vanished inside the brig. Demyx stared futilely at the shut door, his face burning, wondering how he'd gotten into this situation. He couldn't lie and say he liked it, but at the same time...well, he couldn't say he hated it either, could he? He could only hope he didn't botch things that badly.

* * *

"So," Demyx said, clapping his hands together. "I figure we should start with names, hmm? Whadda ya think? I mean, it'll get tiresome to call you 'vamp' all the time, yeah?"

The vamp had adopted his usual position tucked in the corner of the bench. He was really quite small, Demyx thought. Well, small for a boy, but tall for a girl. It was still a little hard to tell what sex he was supposed to be; his features were delicate and perfectly androgynous, and his body wasn't visible through the baggy surplus jumpsuit he'd been dressed in. Looking at him, he could really go either way. If it wasn't for his voice, in fact, Demyx might be more inclined to think him a girl.

"Vamp. That is your name for us."

"Yeah," Demyx said, sinking to the floor. He noticed that the tray - pushed against the force shield, like always - no longer carried a cup of heated blood. Seeing that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Of course he knew the brig was equipped with hidden mics and cameras, to say nothing of the constantly prowling guards, but it still unnerved him to think that his every babbled 'conversation' with the vamp had been recorded for Colonel Ansem's viewing.

"Its meaning."

"Well, I dunno, it's short for something, but..." Demyx rubbed the back of his head. "Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself! I say we start with our own names first, okay?"

"That word, its meaning." The vamp blinked. Demyx felt encouraged - the vamp was finally showing some interest!

"Um, hmm...I dunno...'okay' just means 'okay.' 'All right,' I guess. Or like, when you add 'yes' to the end of a sentence to make a question."

No response. Demyx plunged forward. "So anyway, I'm Second Lieutenant Demyx, from Aersu. Callsign Nocturne. But you can just call me Demyx. And you?"

The vamp looked away, instead staring at the wall like he wanted to burn it down with the force of his gaze. Demyx frowned.

"Hell_ooo? _I asked you a question."

"I am not like you. That part of me, I will not give away freely."

"Okay, okay, but I really want to call you something besides just 'you' or 'vamp," Demyx protested.

The vamp did not speak. Demyx realized that he wouldn't get any more from him on the subject...he could only hope that after the lesson, the vamp would trust him enough to divulge it. This was not a very auspicious start, if Demyx was having so much trouble getting a simple _name _out of the guy.

"You do not have to call me anything," the vamp said at length.

"Okay." Demyx slumped his shoulders. "Say, why don't you eat your food, Mr. Vamp?" Yeah, that was how he'd do it. Pelt the vamp with stupid nicknames until he became annoyed enough to reveal his own name. Demyx doubted it would work as planned, though. Not when the vamp was just so damned stoic. "There's no blood in it this time."

The vamp cast a bored stare at the tray. As he moved, Demyx noted how the tendons of his neck stood out beneath his skin, and how he could see every smooth line of the vamp's cheekbones. He didn't show any overtly adverse effects from not eating for four days - he was as lucid as ever - but it was clearly affecting him.

"I do not know what these...items...are. You could be trying to..._varei khai_...intoxicate? No...foul...me..."

"Poison, you mean?" Demyx said. "And no, I swear, we're not trying to poison you. That's the same stuff that I eat every day!"

"What is it." The vamp sounded weary. He looked away from the tray.

"Oh, well, I can explain that," Demyx chirped. "That's an apple. They're pretty shitty here, but y'know, that's what you get when everything you eat is freeze-dried! That's a sandwich. Egg-salad today? Only it's not really egg salad, it's some flavored yeast, tastes bad. That's, I think that's supposed to be steamed broccoli? I dunno, something green, reconstituted from a package, I bet. And that's milk, only decent thing they serve here." By the end of that speech, Demyx felt more than a little queasy. Of course spacesiders like Axel and Xigbar never questioned what was in their lunches, but Demyx longed for real food grown in soil and under rain.

He looked up and saw, with a jolt, that the vamp was staring back at him. They locked eyes, vamp and human, the blue of the ocean into the void of space. Demyx's throat constricted; once again, the vamp's gaze captivated him so much he couldn't breathe.

This time, the vamp didn't look away. He said, his voice soft and deadly, "It is of no importance whether I partake of that or not. I will not consume it."

Demyx breathed. He didn't know how. Somehow, against his stiff muscles, he had forced a gulp of much-needed air into his lungs. He blinked hard, a strange, almost nauseous, feeling spiraling inside him. Just what had happened? Dammit, he needed to avoid eye contact with the vamp from now on...

"You can't be thinking of that," Demyx croaked. "Killing yourself? What's the point?"

"Plenty." The vamp's eyes flashed. "I will not betray my people. It is...honorable. To die in combat. Prisoners are dishonorable. I will not be dishonorable."

"That's...that's shit, man," Demyx said. "Honor? That shit will get you killed."

The vamp smiled. For the first time. It was a hideous smile, more a smirk, that tugged and pinched at the smooth skin of his face, distorting it. He looked more inhuman than ever. "So be it."

"Don't! I swear, there's a lot to live for!" Demyx yelled, surging to his feet. Why was he desperate? Why did he want this vamp to live so badly? Maybe because he didn't want his project to fail before it had even started, or...he didn't know. "Yeah, even shitty food and a shitty ventilation system and shitty friends and a shitty family!"

Was he talking to the vamp, or to himself?

"You are stupid." The vamp turned away from Demyx. "I am done. My _zaikata, _my honor, I will not have you stain it."

"No, come on, you can't," Demyx said weakly.

"Come back...tomorrow...if you wish. I do not entirely...loathe...talking with you. It is better than the others. If my last conversation is with you, that would not be so...bad."

"No," Demyx said.

The vamp didn't reply. Demyx straightened, looked directly at the vamp, and said again, his heart pounding, "No. You're not going to die."

No response. Demyx strode forward, recklessly approaching the force shield. He heard the guards shift and heft their blasters, and the vamp actually reacted, whipping around to face Demyx. His eyes even widened a fraction, or maybe Demyx had imagined that.

"I'll make sure you won't die," Demyx said, leaning forward until his nose almost touched the force shield; reflexively, the vamp shrunk back. "I'll stay here and stare at you until you start eating."

"Wh...what..." The vamp was at an utter loss for words. He looked livid yet confused at the same time. "Why do you care?"

Demyx looked at him long and hard, struggling to dredge up the answer himself. Excellent question. Why _did _he care? This was just a stranger - a _vamp. _It didn't matter if the guy lived or died, Demyx wouldn't be culpable.

No...it did matter.

He surprised even himself when he spoke. "Because...I don't want anybody else to die on my watch."

In a vague way, he wondered what the Colonel and his cronies on the other side of the mics made of that statement, but then decided he didn't care. He folded his arms, stuck out his chin, and stared the vamp down.

"You cannot stay forever," the vamp said.

"Oh yes I can," Demyx said. "Wanna try me? You may be stubborn, but I can be too."

The vamp said nothing, just gazed at Demyx, and folded his arms. Issuing a challenge. Well, Demyx would gladly accept it. The human sprawled on the uncomfortable floor and flashed the vamp a grin to which the vamp reacted by narrowing his eyes. Hey, at least he was trying to interact with Demyx now.

And Demyx knew without a shadow of a doubt that he _would _uphold his words. It wasn't as if he did much anyway; his squadron wouldn't miss him. And surely Leonhart and his bunch would construe this as him trying to obtain the vamp's trust. But why was he going this far? He knew that it wasn't because he wanted to impress Leonhart and Colonel Ansem. He honestly, sincerely did not want this vamp to die.

For exactly the reason he stated. He would never again be helpless, never again sit there and _watch _when he could prevent a death. Even if it was an enemy's death.

Demyx wrenched his thoughts away from that direction and decided to pass the time by watching the vamp, who was easily the most interesting thing in the room. It struck Demyx how much the vamp stood out against the starbase's dingy black metal. So pale, his hair and skin...but his eyes were darker than anything Demyx had ever seen. He was afraid to look into them, so he didn't. Instead he looked at the markings around them. They were a delicate lavender shade, the same color as bruised eyelids, and formed complicated swirls that reminded Demyx at once of flowers and waves - but it was futile looking for human elements in those alien designs. He wondered about their purpose, and whether they were a natural part of vamp physiology or inked on like tattoos or makeup.

The vamp spoke after about fifteen minutes. "Go."

"Not until you eat," Demyx shot back.

"You are making a game of me."

"I'm making sure you stay alive."

"Why does it matter."

"It's just as I said. I won't let anybody die on my watch. Vamp or no."

"It will take time, this death. It will not be on your 'watch.'" The vamp sounded almost bored.

"I don't care," Demyx said. "Fact of the matter is you're gonna die anyway. Hell, before that happens, my superiors are probably going to tie you down and force-feed you. You wouldn't want that, would you? They can be really nasty, you know."

"Your superiors." A slight frown quirked the vamp's face, but as soon as it had appeared it was gone. "That man, earlier. The scarred one."

"What about him?" Demyx said.

"He is more a soldier than you. Not soft and strange. Bears battle scars. That is honorable."

Demyx thought it took one twisted psyche for a prisoner to think of one of his captors as 'honorable,' but he supposed that was just how deep the vamps' honor fetish ran. Not that he'd know. "What about you? You've got no scars."

The vamp did not answer. He averted his gaze.

How long they remained like that, Demyx didn't know. All he knew was that it was long enough for the guards to change shifts and the steady footsteps outside to wind down. Demyx's legs cramped and he eventually stopped feeling the floor grooves poking into his rear. On occasion, he tried to engage the vamp in conversation, but his attempts usually died down after one or two exchanges. Every so often Demyx would get up and stretch and pace around the brig; he noticed that the vamp's eyes followed him whenever he did that. But he always sat back down again, a smile on his face, and waited patiently.

This was, Demyx reflected, actually a little amusing. In a weird 'am-I-dreaming-or-awake' kind of way. He began to forget that a world existed outside of the dark brig - and in a terrified flash he wondered if the prisoner was feeling the same way.

The thought crossed his mind while while he was pacing. He stopped mid-step, a chill trickling down his spine, and whirled around to face the vamp - though he didn't know what he was going to say, how to react. Did vamps even feel the same way as humans? He was worrying about nothing...

Then Demyx's eyes landed on the vamp. Or rather, on the vamp crouched above the tray, picking off snowflake-sized pieces of the sandwich with his claws. He ate slowly, almost soundlessly, his throat convulsing with every swallow. Demyx couldn't look away; he found it strangely mesmerizing.

He couldn't ever remember feeling this happy in his life. At long last, he had succeeded at something.

"Hey, hey, good for you!" Demyx said when the vamp had finished a good third of the sandwich. The vamp stiffened, alarmed, and leapt gracefully back onto the bench again.

"Stupid human," he said. "Now will you leave?"

"Aww, come on, you can finish the rest, can't you?" Demyx said.

The vamp glared at him.

'Okay, okay, I get the picture." Demyx began to back out of the room, but he couldn't take his eyes off the vamp. It struck him that the alien, all cold light and sharp angles and muted colors and deep solemnity, was beautiful. Not beautiful like an attractive human, but the same kind of beautiful as the ocean. Something too grand for a little idiot like him to understand. With that revelation came another: he liked this vamp. He liked him, and wanted to spend more time with him. Not out of obligation to Leonhart, not out of crude curiosity.

The thought made Demyx grin. "See you tomorrow."

The vamp turned away, saying without words that the conversation was over. Demyx obeyed his wishes and turned around as well, palming open the brig door. Just before he entered the corridor, he heard something, a voice which brushed over the back of his neck like a silk curtain.

"Zexion."

"What?" Demyx froze mid-step.

"My name. Zexion."

What could he say to that? Demyx stepped out, his heart pounding. The name turned over and over again in his mind. The name and the vamp's voice, softer than he'd ever heard it before.

"Zexion," he said, musingly, under his breath.

A name was a start, he supposed. The start of what, he didn't quite know, but he at once welcomed it - and feared it.

* * *

Aww, no one was able to successfully guess the chapter titling theme? Well, I guess I'll hold off the candy corn until the next chapter, because the theme becomes pretty obvious then, I think. (hint: listen to the BSG soundtrack! You won't regret it, because it's some damned beautiful music). Anyway, chapter three is called "There's Too Much Confusion":

_"What's that mean?" Demyx sputtered on his Coke-and-rum. "It's a goddamned vamp!"_

_"Hey, hey, get your mind outta the gutter!" Axel said, waving his hands. "That's not what I meant! Just sayin', you're always spending all your time with him. What're you hoping to accomplish? Tryin' to interrogate him? Why don'cha leave that to Leon and his bunch, got it memorized?"_

_Demyx stared at his knees, wondering if he should tell Axel about the task Leonhart had given him. He was distracted, though, when a thud - a body hitting the floor - issued to Axel's right, and a female voice snapped, "Outta the way, ugly."_

Reviews are pretty, reviews are nice, take your chances, roll the dice. And also they may encourage me to update faster, but we'll see considering how busy I am._  
_


	3. There's Too Much Confusion

**The Joker and the Thief**

_A fighter pilot and an alien find love in the middle of a war between their two peoples. Zemyx, AkuDemy, XemZex. Spiritual successor to "Tainted But Beautiful."_

Rating: M

Warnings: AU (sci fi space opera setting), violence, yaoi, language, explicit scenes, noncon, light S&M, discipline, semi-mpreg (it makes sense in story), seme!Demyx and uke!Zexion, badly written space battles, possibly inaccurate military procedures, character death, melodrama

Yay on the two anons for correctly figuring out the titling theme, though I guess if you know about the song "All Along The Watchtower" you'd have already perceived that the chapter titles are each a lyric in that song. As for the rest of you, I recommend you give it a listen. Written by Bob Dylan, covered a bazillion times. My favorite versions are Dylan's and Bear McCreary's (from Battlestar Galactica), although the Jimi Hendrix version is the most well known.

Sorry if I haven't been replying to anyone's reviews. If I were less busy, I would - but in the meantime, I'll just send every one of you a general thanks for your great reviews so far, and I hope you keep following and enjoying _The Joker and the Thief._

* * *

Log III: There's Too Much Confusion

Demyx continued to visit Zexion every day, but things were different than before. This time, instead of babbling to a silent Zexion, he was actually able to hold conversations with the vamp. Sure, they were pretty one-sided; most of them consisted them of Demyx talking at length and Zexion answering in sentence fragments. But at least the guy was talking.

He never said anything about vamp tactics and technology, but Demyx didn't mind because he hadn't come to interrogate Zexion, but to teach him Alliance Standard. Zexion was a fast learner, Demyx had to concede. Only a week in, and his accent had become almost imperceptible and his speech patterns had grown more natural, though he refused to add 'nonsense words' like 'hey,' and 'aww' and 'okay' to his vocabulary, much to Demyx's chagrin.

Demyx was even more pleased that Zexion had begun eating regularly, though he rarely consumed more than half of what was on the trays. The higher-ups had wised up and were giving him smaller portions now. Demyx didn't know whether it was because vamps naturally ate less than humans, or if Zexion found human food unpalatable, or if he was trying to eat only the minimum to stay alive - a continued form of protest, as it were. But his previous hunger strike had long ended, and he had made no new attempts on his life.

Demyx didn't know what Major Leonhart and the lot thought about his progress, since he didn't see much of them - but once, when he'd walked into the mess hall at the same time that Leonhart had been eating, the security chief had given him a significant nod. Demyx interpreted that as an encouraging gesture.

Sometimes he wondered if Zexion knew what was going on. But if Zexion knew, he wasn't saying anything - and he still cooperated with Demyx, speaking more and more every day.

One day, just before Demyx had been about to leave, Zexion said quietly, "_Zaikata."_

"Excuse me?" Demyx stopped mid-step.

"_Zaikata," _Zexion repeated. "That is the central concept of my people. The closest translation in your language would be 'honor,' I suppose. Except...there is more to _zaikata _than that. It literally is the code by which we live."

"Hmm?" Demyx frowned, not understanding why Zexion was telling him this.

Zexion went on, not looking at Demyx but some spot on the wall above the pilot's head. "Every individual's personal _zaikata _adds into that of the entire people. I strive to improve my own, and that betters my society. It is understood as performing the best one can in his every assigned position. I am soldier, student, son, mate. My _zaikata _is the sum of my efforts to distinguish myself in each place."

Demyx realized with a chill that Zexion was finally beginning to divulge information of his own. Not tactics, but...something much more important to him. Slowly, the lieutenant stepped away from the doorway and approached Zexion, his heart hammering.

"Zai..kata?" he repeated the word. It sounded odd and clumsy on his tongue. "That's...not that stuff again? That's why you were trying to kill yourself..."

"A soldier's _zaikata _is to serve his commander and the Empire, and that includes upholding the Empire's secrets. If he must die to do so, then so be it."

"That's crazy stuff." Demyx shook his head ruefully. "Cult stuff."

"Occult?"

"No, no, 'cult,'" Demyx said. "Like, um, some religion where the people drink poisoned Kool-Aid...no, that's not it. Sorry! Just confusing you more, I know."

"Religion?" Zexion blinked.

"What, don't you vamps have religion?" Demyx said, surprised. "That 'zaikata' stuff, sounds pretty fanatical to me."

Zexion repeated the word contemplatively, rather butchering its pronunciation. "Fanatical. I assume it derives from 'fanatic.' Is that how you would describe me? _Us? _If so, that shows your foolishness, human."

He hissed, baring his fangs. Demyx squeaked and staggered a few steps back. He reddened when a smirk crossed Zexion's face.

"People like you are why humans are weak. No proper Keiniris army would ever admit a weakling like you. But your parents should have long killed you to prevent you from shaming them in the first place."

"What?" Demyx's throat constricted and for a moment he didn't see Zexion but - _the ocean, endless, a torrent, black sky and white lightning and icy rain _- and then his vision went red and he shook from rage and grief, the grief that he could never entirely hold at bay.

"You wanna say that again?" he shouted. "Huh? You really wanna? Don't you dare - to even _joke _about shit like that - that is just not okay, you get? To say that - parents, parents don't, no parent would do that! No family would, families keep each other alive, that's - "

His voice died away when he realized that he was no longer speaking to Zexion, but himself. Once again.

Zexion threw Demyx a pitying look. "That attitude precisely. That's what is wrong with your people."

"And I assume the _vamps _are perfect," Demyx said peevishly.

"Not quite, but we are certainly better than humans. By the way, that is not what we call ourselves."

"Well, too bad, it's not like we know about that, you guys haven't been entirely forthcoming," Demyx said. He was still angry at Zexion, even though he knew that Zexion hadn't intended to pick at that scab that had never healed. Could he expect Zexion - an alien, completely removed from any human experience - to understand? To understand something that Demyx hadn't even told Axel?

"We are the Keiniris Empire," Zexion said. "I am a Keiniri. A _kirasai, _a first-lifer. A...youth, I suppose."

Demyx realized, even through his residual anger, that Zexion had just given him valuable information. No, more than that...Zexion was finally beginning to open up to him. Actually, Zexion had begun opening up the instant he had started talking about _zaikata_; Demyx hadn't caught on until now. But why?

_Oh well, never look a gift fighter in the fuselage, _he thought.

"You are _Miirakkhai_ - humans. Actually, it translates into...'weaponless,' I suppose."

Demyx looked at Zexion's claws and fangs and thought that that was a fair name.

"_Zaikata _is the code by which we live. Do you understand now?"

Demyx didn't know what there was to understand, but he nodded just to appease Zexion. Zexion looked at him long and hard, his expression serious - before he threw his head back and laughed. Demyx jumped in astonishment. Zexion's laugh was a horrid sound, hysterical and harsh-edged and laden with so much poison it hurt Demyx's ears. Unconsciously, Demyx found himself backing away. His shoulder had bumped against the door by the time Zexion finished laughing.

"You should be grateful, Demyx." Zexion didn't say the name so much as sneer it. "I have given you information, and is that not exactly what your superiors desire? Hopefully they will find it sufficient."

He laughed again. A cold sweat broke out on the back of Demyx's neck and without thinking, blinded by an emotion worse than panic, he palmed the door open and tumbled into the corridor. He didn't want to look back, because he was afraid to. Afraid of Zexion.

Goddammit, the vamp had been gaming him all along. What an idiot he'd been that he hadn't been able to tell.

* * *

"Dems, Dems, I've gotten so _lonely _without you!" Axel declared, pressing his hand over his heart like a fainting damsel. "Why haven't you been coming to our arcade tourneys?"

"Oh, fuck that," Demyx grumbled. "You know I'd just wipe out in the first round."

"Nawww, don't sell yourself short, got it memorized?" Axel thumped Demyx hard on the shoulder; Demyx squeaked indignantly. He looked at his friend and saw that the older pilot's eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Made sense; he'd been ordering nonstop from the bartender.

Demyx and Axel sat inside the tiny bar inside Starbase 13. It was well known that Colonel Ansem did not approve of the bar, but he couldn't well overrule the owner; the bar had been founded by Luxord, one of the Alliance's top entrepreneurs, as a place in which "soldiers can get their jollies, just like the rest of us," in the man's own words. Demyx couldn't see how the bar could present that much of a problem, anyway. It didn't have room enough for a real fight to break out - the bar counter and the three tables already filled up almost all available floor space - and did not serve hard liquor (which Axel complained of as a loss).

Tonight, at the beginning of gamma shift, it was crowded with as many soldiers as it could hold. Demyx and Axel were lucky to have arrived early; they managed to snatch prime barfront seats. Already, with a little alcohol in him, Demyx felt better. Sure, it was still shitty that the vamp had used him, but what else could he have expected from a vamp?

"Seriously, though, we never seem to hang out anymore," Axel said, resting an elbow on the bartop. He tried to look contemplative, but failed because he was too tipsy.

"Just because I haven't shown up for the tourney in a week - " Demyx protested.

"Aww, I'm not butthurt about that," Axel said. "Just...you're really busy with that vamp, aren't you?"

"What's that mean?" Demyx choked on his Coke-and-rum. "It's a goddamned vamp!"

"Hey, hey, get your mind outta the gutter!" Axel said, waving his hands. "That's not what I meant! Just sayin', you're always spending all your time with him. What're you hoping to accomplish? Tryin' to interrogate him? Why don'cha leave that to Leon and his bunch, got it memorized?"

Demyx stared at his knees, wondering if he should tell Axel about the task Leonhart had given him. He was distracted when a thud - a body hitting the floor - issued to Axel's right, and a female voice snapped, "Outta the way, ugly."

Demyx already knew who he'd see. Slithering into the stool next to Axel, while its former occupant scampered fearfully away, was a young woman with blonde hair that stuck out like two antennae. She proudly wore the gold stripes of Radiant Squadron on her uniform. "My, my, if it isn't Demmykins," she said, smiling sweetly - and very insincerely - at Demyx.

Demyx groaned. "What do you want, Larxene?"

"What, I can't hang out with my friends?" Lieutenant Larxene hooked Axel's arm in her own, but Axel pushed her aside. Somehow, seeing that comforted Demyx.

"Knock it off, Larx," Axel said. "Yo, bartender!"

"That's not my name," sighed the bartender, a petite blonde girl named Namine. Sometimes Demyx wondered why she even worked at the bar, because she seemed so unsuited for it.

"Screw that. Get me summa that Ponedrian beer, got it memorized?" Axel retrieved a credit disk from his pocket and spun it across the bartop, his customary method of paying. "Some for Larx, too - "

"Hey, I can pay for myself," Larxene said loudly, slamming a credit disk on the bartop so hard it made Demyx's drink jump. He grabbed the glass to steady it.

"One of these days you two should really try to ask nicely," Namine said, but swept off to pour their beers anyway.

"Nice girl, that Namine," Axel said, grinning and linking his hands behind his head.

Demyx stared at the melting ice cubes in his drink, wondering why his face was burning. Larxene seemed to feel similarly, because she scowled and said, "Are you kidding? _That _little girl?"

"I said she's nice," Axel said inanely.

"Soo, anyway, Demmykins, what've you been up to? You haven't been coming to the tourneys!" Larxene cried, leaning over Axel's lap to address Demyx. Axel shoved her back with a hand on her forehead.

"Personal space, Larx, ever heard of it?" he grumbled.

"I haven't been up to much," Demyx said.

"Nah, he's hanging out with that vamp all the time," Axel said. "Geez, what's so interesting about him, he doesn't even talk."

"He talks to _me," _Demyx protested.

Axel laughed raucously. Demyx frowned; he didn't see anything funny about what he'd said, though he supposed everything became funny when you were drunk. Larxene laughed too, a high-pitched noblewoman's titter, even though she hadn't gotten drunk yet. Probably because she wanted an excuse to laugh. Demyx shrank back from them, at once embarrassed at and resentful of their behavior. They could get away with acting that way because they were Radiants...not that Demyx really _wanted _to behave like that.

"Your drinks," Namine said, pushing a foaming mug in front of Axel and another in front of Larxene. "Please behave yourselves. Papa won't be pleased if you make a mess here again."

"Aww, the Colonel doesn't give a shit about this shitty shit dump, got it memorized?" Axel said, grinning at Namine, who sighed and shook her head.

"Yeah, he'd probably have an orgasm if it burned down! The first and last in his uptight life!" Larxene cackled, and Axel quickly joined in.

Namine exchanged a helpless glance with Demyx. Demyx shrugged and said, "Sorry about that...they're drunk."

"Yes, I'm fully aware of how they act when they're drunk," said Namine. She cast Axel a strange, unreadable glance that made something churn in the pit of Demyx's stomach - maybe his lunch didn't agree with the alcohol, he didn't know. "Although Larxene isn't quite there yet."

"Hey, did you say my name?" Larxene yelled. She'd thrown her arms around Axel's neck; Axel looked a little annoyed but didn't shove her off. Demyx found himself suddenly very entranced in the bubbles of his carbonated drink.

"No, I didn't say anything," Namine said. "Oh, Major Leonhart! What can I get for you?"

Demyx turned to see Major Squall Leonhart striding into the bar, rather rudely elbowing past the milling people. He looked angry, though maybe Demyx only thought that because he was afraid of the security chief. Axel and Larxene leaned forward, watching Leonhart as well, though not with fear but curiosity - it was common knowledge that the major disdained of the bar.

Leonhart waved off Namine and rounded on Demyx. Demyx gulped when Leonhart's sharp, icy eyes penetrated his own. He wanted to scamper backwards, away from danger, but he couldn't because behind him were Axel and Larxene. They'd mock him for the rest of his life if he ran, the cocky Radiants they were.

"Lieutenant Demyx," Leonhart said, and the breath whooshed clean out of Demyx's lungs. "I'd like to have a word."

* * *

"What're you so upset about, sir?" Demyx demanded the instant he and Leonhart had tramped sufficiently far down an empty corridor. "I'm doing exactly as you told me. Getting on his good side."

He couldn't help but sound a little sulky, even though he knew that wouldn't endear the security chief any more towards him. Sure enough, Leonhart's eyes narrowed.

"You're not moving quickly enough."

"Well, ex_cuse _me!" Demyx burst out, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking to a superior officer. "You told me to gain his trust, so that's what I've been trying to do! He's already given more information today than he has in the past week combined."

Leonhart didn't reprimand Demyx for his disrespect, though he should have. "_And _he's already wised up to what we're trying to do."

Demyx felt like tearing out bunches of his hair. "What do you want to do about it? Clearly I'm useless to you now!"

"I'm sorry about this," Leonhart said. "If we had all the time in the world, I'd advise you to continue your present tactics - it will take time, but I have confidence that you can build a good rapport with him. Enough to get him to eventualy talk, even if he's consciously aware of what you're trying to do."

"But..." Demyx said. "We don't have time, do we, sir?"

Leonhart shook his head. "Capital has already dispatched an agent to the starbase, who will be arriving in less than two days. And...there's a rumor flying around that the agent is from Black Ops."

"Black Ops?" A chill ran down Demyx's spine. "This prisoner's really that important?"

"Of course," Leonhart said. "He's the first vamp we've managed to capture alive."

"I'm sorry," Demyx said, staring at the floor. "I shouldn't...I guess I took to long...but it's ruined anyway, he won't tell us anything anymore."

"Don't worry about it," Leonhart said. Did he actually sound a little...gentle? "I think I put you up to an impossible task. For someone completely untrained, you did well."

Yet another compliment. Once again, Demyx didn't know how to react. He settled for staring at his boots clinging to the grooved metal floor. To distract himself from the roiling mix of emotions inside him, he changed the subject. "So what's going to happen now?"

"I'm not sure," Leonhart admitted. "Perhaps the addition of the Black Ops officer won't change anything significantly. After all, he'll be coming onto _our _territory. But at the same time, he represents the will of Capital itself...it's complicated. Needless to say, once he comes, your efforts will be unnecessary."

"Oh, I see," Demyx said, trying not to feel like he'd just swallowed a stone. "So I guess..I mean..."

"You made a good effort," Leonhart said. His tone was flat, but had Demyx imagined his smile? Probably. Major Leonhart _never _smiled.

"I guess, sir," Demyx sighed. Why did he feel so disappointed? It wasn't as if he really cared much about Zexion...except that Zexion had, to an extent, trusted him. Not enough to divulge what the superiors wanted to know, but enough to tell Demyx his name. To tell him about _zaikata_. And now Demyx was going to have to walk away from all that, turn his back and forget it... It should be easy. He'd known Zexion for less than two weeks, and even then he hadn't talked about much with the vamp. He could not possibly have forged a close connection between them, and did he want to? They were human and vamp. Always enemies. It was better to not know each other...

But Demyx's heart still ached anyway.

A crackle issued from Leonhart's earjack. "Excuse me," Leonhart said to Demyx, and turned to face the wall. Demyx got the message and backed away. Not that he wanted to eavesdrop on Leonhart's conversations anyway; it was probably something boring like the security officers apprehending Axel and Larxene for starting a fight in the corridor outside the bar.

But out of the corner of his eye, Demyx saw Leonhart tense, suddenly taut as a bowstring, and he hissed in a whisper that Demyx could hear, "_What _did you say?"

More incoherent crackling, and the blood drained from Leonhart's face and he said, "Stay put, I'll be down there ASAP."

He began dashing down the hall, completely ignoring Demyx. Demyx remained rooted for a confused second, but then he realized that Leonhart was running in the direction of the brig. Without thinking, he tore after the security chief.

"What's going on, sir?" he shouted after Leonhart's rapidly retreating back.

Leonhart's words hit Demyx like punches. "It's the prisoner. He tried to escape. - and critically injured one of the guards in the process."

* * *

"It was pure routine," said a white-faced Private Tracy. "Just routine, sir. We powered down the force shield, had our guns - on stun - aimed at the prisoner, slid in his food tray. Then we were s'posed to repower the force shield."

"Except that didn't happen," Major Leonhart said.

Private Tracy shook his head. He was slumped against the wall because he couldn't support himself; a long bloody gash ran down his leg and his wrist was ringed with what looked disturbingly like bite marks. Demyx didn't want to look at him, but he also didn't want to look at Leonhart or the unconscious Zexion (now safely behind the force shield again), so he stared at the grooves in the floor. At the drying blood sprinkled between them.

"We dunno how it happened, sir. We were taking every available precaution, weren't expecting him to fight because c'mon, he hadn't fought us any of the previous feeding times. We thought the window of opportunity was too brief for 'im to get in an opening, anyway. We lowered the shield for less than a second, only long enough to slide in the tray. But he..." Private Tracy swallowed hard. "It was like, like being pounced on by a tiger. Only quicker. One moment he was just sittin' there on the bench, the next he was on top of Private Finks, biting 'im, scratching 'im. Private Finks din't have any time to even shoot."

"How did you and Private Chen react?" Leonhart asked.

"Shot at 'im, but he threw Finks at us, like a shield, so we just ended up stunning Finks instead. Then he was on me." Private Tracy swallowed again. "Bit my wrist to get me to release my stunner, slashed my leg - " He lifted his leg to demonstrate " - and oh dear lord I coulda sworn I was about to die. If it weren't for Private Chen's quick thinking..."

"What did Private Chen do?"

"Shot the vamp afore the vamp could, I dunno, suck my blood out. Three times, 'tween the shoulder blades. Enough to knock him out cold. Then prompt as we could we tossed the vamp back in the cell and powered the shield. Fuck, never been more terrified in my life." Private Tracy shuddered.

"Thank you, Private," Leonhart said. "Go to the infirmary and get those wounds treated."

"Yes, sir, thank you sir." Tracy saluted before palming open the door, not even noticing Demyx. Demyx felt terribly superfluous.

"Well." Leonhart inhaled. "I wonder what prompted our prisoner's sudden change in heart."

Demyx shook his head. "I don't know."

"Oh? I assume you might have some inkling. You're the one who knows him best, after all."

"What?" Demyx glanced sharply at Leonhart, startled. "What makes you think that? I don't know a damned thing about him!"

"You know his name," Leonhart said. "And a little about his culture. More than the rest of us. Admit it, Lieutenant. Maybe you don't know that much, but that's just a testament to how little _we _know. Now, do you have any idea why this happened?"

Demyx fought the urge to snap, "How about _you?" _- after all, Leonhart and Ansem and the lot listened to every one of his conversations. They knew everything that he did. But did they have as much of a 'connection' to Zexion? They weren't the ones who talked to the vamp every day, who taught him Alliance Standard and encouraged him to eat and listened whenever he (on rare occasions) talked about himself. Maybe Demyx did hold some special insight that nobody else did...ha, an idiot's thought. Him, special?

"His honor," he said at length. "_Zaikata_, they call it? Maybe he thinks that to go out fighting would be more honorable than dying as a prisoner."

"Go out fighting?" Leonhart said.

"Yeah, well, he's smart," Demyx said. "He surely wouldn't expect his attempt to succeed. I bet he thought that as long as he brought down _some _humans before we retaliated, he'd, I dunno, have acted honorably."

Leonhart shook his head. "He didn't think this through, did he? One or two mauled guards isn't going to bring down the entire Star Alliance."

_Well, of course he didn't think it through, _Demyx thought with a strange bitter edge. _He's disoriented and imprisoned and knows he's alone, friendless - he knows that he can't even trust me. Nobody would think straight in those conditions. He just wanted to...do _something.

That thought made Demyx curiously angry, but he couldn't say why. Maybe because he realized that all his efforts - his attempts to convince Zexion to live, to abandon this honor nonsense - had come down to nothing. Zexion didn't care what he had to say. Demyx was probably just an obstacle to be tolerated so long as he was the humans' prisoner. But then again, had Demyx been expecting to succeed in the first place? Zexion had said it himself: honor underpinned vamp society. A human, a captor, couldn't expect to talk that kind of deep-seated belief out of a vamp.

Maybe, by flat-out telling Zexion that honor was shit, Demyx had...made things worse. He clenched his hands into fists, dug his nails into his palms. It hurt, but not as much as it should have. Something hot and painful flowered inside him and soaked into his muscles. Into his heart. Shame. Anger. Self-hatred.

His fault. This was all his fault.

* * *

Privates Tracy, Finks, and Chen are all incidental OC's who probably won't show up again. Yeah, so there will be minor OC-age in this story, but I'm sure you can all handle that. Anyway, there were OC's in _Tainted _too (does anyone remember the wimpy mage Bartholomew? Or am I the only one with a soft spot for him?), so it shouldn't bother anyone.

The next chapter is called "I Can't Get No Relief," and preview is here:

_Demyx didn't know what he was playing at. He'd never put his own story into words before, even though that was a valued skill on Aersu. Mostly, he was afraid to. On Starbase 13, he was afraid that nobody would understand or care - Axel least of all - and on Aersu, he had feared that others would condemn and judge him, or even worse, he would not be able to find the words in which to tell his tale. _

_A part of him had often wondered if he had even wanted to tell his story anyway. Maybe if he heard the truth about himself, that part reasoned, he'd realize how horribly pathetic a person he was. So pathetic that he shouldn't deserve to live..._

Awww, poor emo Demyx. You'll have to wait until I feel like updating again (that is, when I finish chapter five - I'm trying to stay one chapter ahead of my uploads) to see more of him. In the meantime, keep those reviews coming!


End file.
